Half my days 1 cannot bear not to touch you. 

 

 

The rest of the time I feel it doesn’t matter 

 

 

if I ever see you again. It isn’t the morality, 

 

 

it is how much you can bear. 

 

 

No date, no name attached. 

 

 

Sometimes when she is able to spend the night with him they are wakened by the three minarets of the city beginning their prayers before dawn. He walks with her through the indigo markets that lie between South Cairo and her home. The beautiful songs of faith enter the air like arrows, one minaret answering another, as if passing on a rumour of the two of them as they walk through the cold morning air, the smell of charcoal and hemp already making the air profound. Sinners in a holy city.